Golden Rest
by HarrimanStandard
Summary: "Imagine it's impossible for person A of your OTP can't sleep, unless person B is next to them." - Birthday present for PrincessOfHoenn. Contestshipping / Shuuharu.


Everything was golden outside as the gentle fog of another night settled in, bringing the flicker of the ornate streetlamps through a mist. With it came an additional hue of gold to the yellow-stained concrete of the sidewalks and the tan bricks of the buildings outside. All golds, except the dark slate-grey of the building several blocks down. Its russet spire dominated the skyline, and in the mist red beacons faded in and out along its skyward course.

He leaned on the windowsill, taking in the sights. The next day he was due to hop a ferry westward, hoping the sea air of the Cianwood coast would give him the serenity he needed to re-trench and re-tool for his next ribbon.

Even then, peace was attainable where he was. "Depot Square", as it was called, was no establishment that took chances with a guest's comfort-what was once the former doorstep to all of Johto now served a different function ever since the Magnet Train and its dazzling transit hub of glass, steel, and connections to every form of mass transit bound to land and sea were built next door. He had passed through it on his way from Kanto, marvelling at the architecture despite his stomach having reservations at being accelerated to airplane-like speeds in mere minutes throughout the journey. He'd pass through again on his way to the ferry slips the next morning before the next leg of his journey.

In a ways, though, the familiar tan, gold, and silver skyline which made up the downtown brought him peace. Five years ago he came here. Five years ago he took the sights and sounds and won his first ribbon in Johto here. And five years ago, he knew this sleeplessness all too well.

When he first came to Goldenrod, he recalled, it was before the Magnet Train line was completed, and with it every other line being elevated to a viaduct like one back home in Slateport. Trying to sleep through the night was an ordeal, as hourly the cacophany of frantically-ringing bells, half-roaring, half-shrieking motors, and thunderous-but-discordant horns would echo through the concrete chasms. All this while the new bridges went in and the hiss and flicker of welding torches and grumble of heavy machinery were ever-present.

Soundproofing didn't seem like something the hotel had the budget for, either. The establishment he was at that time seemed like it was barely treading water. The room reeked of smoke and the many coarse bumps of the cottage-cheese ceiling were stained a grotesque pale grey. The stucco on the walls had numerous scrapes, the dark-emerald carpet was stained and matted in many places, and the mattress felt like it had several springs about to break free of the threadbare surface and sheets. It was that night of restless sleep that he vowed never to book a room at the last minute again.

He had planned better, and had a better room at a better hotel as a result-it was soothing, its environs were peaceful, and the earthen-gold walls with portraiture of the scenery around Goldenrod City felt like home. He sunk into the airy mattress and stared up at the slowly-whirling blades of the vintage-looking fan above. The only sound was the dull hum of the fan and the faint whirr of the refrigerator tucked under the desk.

He concluded it wasn't his environment that was keeping him up at 2AM. It wasn't his day, either-he spent a considerable amout of time sightseeing, exploring the underground tunnel through town and the labyrinth of a department store. He'd picked up many essentials for the road ahead, and didn't worry about that.

Even the loss at yesterday's contest didn't faze him, nor to whom he lost. A pigtailed lass in overalls, stockings, and a bonnet-like white hat beat him fair and square, her well-trained furret both too powerful and too effective against him. It had dodged Roserade's petaldance before letting out the most graceful ice beam he'd ever seen, hitting its mark with beauty, accuracy, and sublime force, and he was sent running for the nearest Nurse Joy to revive and defrost his companion. Roserade was in good health now, and he still stood a chance at clinching a third ribbon in Cianwood the next weekend.

Then it hit him-it was who wasn't there that ate at him most.

Her bandanna and brown hair bobbing about in the crowd. The spark in her blue eyes as she sensed good fortune. Her soft but radiant smile. She was his rival, and yet as time went by she felt like an old friend. Even when they battled, the tense performances were less a clash as they were a demonstration to one another of how much the other had grown. He knew this change well, and his acrid sarcasm of old had turned into nurturing.

He rolled over, pressing his face to the pillow. He closed is eyes, thought about her smile. About her soft voice. About how he wanted to step away from the stage with her hand around his and go to a secluded beach where they could talk heart to heart while sitting arm in arm.

Suddenly, a familiar chirping. A familiar ringtone. He knew the noise well. He picked up the device and held it to his ear.

"May...?" he strained through insomnia-fueled tiredness.

"Hey Drew! Are you by any chance near Goldenrod?" A familiar voice beamed through the speakers. Even at 2AM

"May it's two in the morning. Why are you out?"

"Oh! Kurt finished a batch of Pokeballs for me! It was late enough in the day I figured I'd try catching a couple Oddishes, I'm still plugging away at my dex!"

"That's great! I'm actually at the Depot Square hotel, trying to get some sleep," he paused. "operative word trying. Insomnia's hitting me hard tonight."

"I won't bother you then-"

"No, no! Actually could you please come over? I'm in Room 553. If anyone's at the desk tell the Mr. Hayden invited you".

"Will do!" She beamed. "Thanks so much for this by the way!"

"It's no probem, see you soon!"

Within ten minutes he heard a ginger, cheery rapping on his door. He rose from the bed, shedding the comforter and sheets as he shuffled towards the door. The first thing that caught his attention when he opened it were two grinning faces, one upon a blue beetlike creature and one from below a familiar bandanna.

"Hi Drew!" She beamed. The creature cradled in her arms chimed in a resounding _Oddi!_ in the same cadence. Clearly they were oblivious to how-in his cotton pajama bottoms and undershirt-this probably wasn't a good first impression. However she'd been with him through more awkward situations so this wouldn't be the worst.

"Hi May! Hey, that's a nice catch! Not that long to getting a Bellblossom, either!"

"Thanks!" She replied, chuckling a bit before setting the Oddish down. It ambled around earnestly for few seconds before sitting down and obediently re-entering the beam emanating from a shiny new heal ball.

"Hey, uh...I only got one bed, you can have it if you'd like!" he explained.

"You don't have to worry about that! We could share it!" She replied. His heart skipped a beat. While every feeling he had towards her was far above reproach, he did appreciate sweet gestures of affection from her, and felt soft twitterpations every time her arms wrapped around him or he felt her cheek grazing his. "I'll get ready! I won't keep you up long!"

The next several minutes went by in a flash of running water from the next room and reading, soft humming and words about the fictional Kalosian detective Hephaestus Chapelon inspecting the remnants of a downed airship. Hinges creaked as his fingers were on the page, and he lowered the book to see her striding over in a baggy pink sweatshirt and cyan soffe shorts, her half-dried hair trailing down in frizzy masses. His heart skipped a beat yet again as she slid under the covers across from him.

"By the way, Drew, nice glasses!" She mentioned. He reached for them and removed them, blushing a bit. "You look nice with 'em!"

"Thanks May," he trailed off, unsure whether to continue down the long tangent of self-consciousness about them. As he stowed them in their case and placed them on the nightstand he felt something odd, something uplifting. He noticed she admired every imperfection of his.

"...it really means a lot. I was always worried I'd...I wouldn't look like top coordinator material. But you're fine with that, right?"

"Drew, you're always the champion in my heart". She replied softly as she pulled him close. The giddy heartbeats inevitably followed for him. Inside he felt he was soaring higher than his Flygon ever fathomably could. He felt a wave of energy, of cold air, but also the peace and inner bliss of it. Her heartbeat was composed, calm, soothing. She changed up her grip and hummed softly before he returned the affection, wrapping his arms around her. His heartbeat calmed, and his smile softened, until it mirrored hers.

"This seems like such a dream", he murmured happily, his gaze upon the smiling face half-hidden behind a stream of soft brown hair as his eyelids eased closed and his head sank deep into the pillow.


End file.
